


West

by yeaka



Series: Compass [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Ficlet, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 19:49:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19069477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Gladio goes through his lovers.





	West

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: There are counterparts in this “series”, but they’re all standalone.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Gladiolus goes for a grand total of three runs on Sunday morning before he even manages breakfast. First is Noctis, and that’s intentional, because Noctis has been slacking off and someone’s got to whip him into shape. Next is Cor, on a rare invite that Gladiolus simply can’t refuse. Last is Prompto, and Gladiolus really could say no to that, except Prompto’s such a sweet, jubilant counterpart to the other two, and Gladiolus likes to indulge him. 

Gladiolus is sweating up a storm by the time he makes it home, but it’s fine, because he has the rest of the day off. Noctis isn’t doing anything important, the glaives aren’t training, and Ignis is still too busy for him. Iris isn’t. He returns to their shared house to find her crying over a breakup, and he has to awkwardly pat her and pretend he’s not secretly relieved. 

She’s too young for boyfriends. She makes him spend half the day on the couch with her watching cheesy movies, talking about relationships like they’re the end-all be-all. She asks why he never brings girls home anymore. He knows his father wonders too—when is he going to meet _the one_ and marry her. It’s difficult to explain that he’s perfectly content with the way that things are now. They don’t need to know the details. 

He likes waking up alone on Monday morning in the comfort of his own bed, having plenty of room to roll around and no one to share the sheets with. He likes that he doesn’t have to compete for the shower or deal with someone else’s morning breath. But he only likes that to a point, and he knows that the rest of the week holds promise for other things. 

He’s pleased when Ignis asks him for a private session. He has two other recruits to work out first, but they’re both new and give out long before his stamina’s even halfway depleted. It’s rare to find anyone, even in the glaives and guard, that can keep up with him. Ignis is one of the few. Ignis arrives in the late evening, looking as prim and proper and absolutely delectable as usual. 

Ignis was Gladiolus’ first inkling that he might not settle down with a picture-perfect wife after all. 

He still _likes_ women. Always did. And a scrawny nerd shadowing a spoiled prince shouldn’t have changed that. But it absolutely did. Gladiolus was an annoyed teenager also tethered to a lazy charge, and he and Ignis wound up spending too much time in each other’s orbit to become anything less than _friends_.

And Ignis grew up so cute, _beautiful_ even, more handsome with every passing year. Add to that his cool attitude, his clever wit, and his adorably awful penchant for puns, and Gladiolus never really stood a chance. 

Ignis was his first crush. It went unspoken for years, but eventually, they found themselves at Ignis’ first apartment, mutually grumbling over Noctis. Their complaints grew louder, more heated, closer, and that passion spilled into other things. One thing led to another. Gladiolus vividly discovered just how into men he could be. 

It’s different on Monday night, because the two of them are too old to whine like children. They bring their frustrations out through careful swings of swords and knives. They don’t need to use practice equipment anymore. They’re both too good for that. Sometimes Ignis even _wants_ it to hurt. He’ll come to Gladiolus, nearly shaking with stress, so spent and done with every little tightly-wound problem in his busy, relentless life. And Gladiolus will help him release it all and offer him distraction, solace in finally giving up control. Gladiolus used to think Ignis was too suave to be fucked like an animal, but he was incredibly wrong. 

This time, Ignis doesn’t quite seem to want that. He parries Gladiolus’ blows and rains down his own moves with meticulous precision. He’s sweating by the end, but he’s not bristling with the sort of kinetic energy that begs to be fucked out. Instead, he just seems tired. He invites Gladiolus for dinner, offering to cook. As much as Gladiolus adores being hand-fed Ignis’ masterpiece cuisine, he insists on takeout. Ignis clearly doesn’t have the energy for anything else. But Gladiolus still goes back to Ignis’ apartment, because he can’t resist the smell of Ignis’ cologne and the way that Ignis’ looks when his carefully groomed hairstyle has fallen apart. Gladiolus runs his hands through it once on the drive over. 

They tease each other in the shower, recovering from the workout in private, but they don’t go any further because Ignis only seems to have one round in him. They save that for the bed, where Gladiolus pushes him down and drives into him nice and slow, grinding in balls-deep every time. Ignis clutches at his back and moans so gorgeously. Gladiolus towers over him, cocoons around him, and fills him all the way. 

They last for an impressively long time, but all perfect things must come to an end. Gladiolus comes inside him, raw, because no one could be closer than the two of them already are. He trusts Ignis implicitly. He trusts both of their other partners. He loves the feeling of Ignis splattering his stomach. 

He stays with Ignis in the afterglow. He enjoys the way Ignis looks at him and idly strokes his chest. Gladiolus invites himself to stay. In a fleeting moment of sentimentality, Gladiolus admits that Ignis was the first man he ever jerked off to. Ignis blushes but laughs. 

They’re together all night, but both on duty in the morning. They transition easily into their work selves, both accustomed to the other’s change. They reach the Citadel together, where Ignis falls in beside Noctis, and Gladiolus takes his place several steps behind. Tuesday is nothing but one boring meeting after the other where Gladiolus is purely ornamental but required to stand there anyway. His only solace is that Noctis is clearly suffering more than him.

By the time they’re finally let out afterwards, Gladiolus is itching to _move_. Noctis stretches and mutters about hanging out, but he’s asleep on Ignis’ shoulder the second they reach the car. Ignis grins fondly over it, nodding his goodbye to Gladiolus and driving off. Gladiolus goes home with his father, who asks again when he’s going to get another girlfriend. 

On Wednesday, Prompto shows up to training in black skinny jeans and a long faux-leather shirt with plaid trim at the bottom. From behind, it makes him look like he’s wearing a skirt over leggings. While he stretches, Gladiolus stares at his ass and wonders if it’d be possible to take him home and pass him off for a masculine girl. 

It’s a stupid idea, of course. He doesn’t care anymore. He likes Prompto’s ass the way it is, with a penis on the other side and male pronouns and whatever else. But of course he’ll never tell his father _an ass is an ass and Prompto’s got a great one._

Prompto makes it worse by flirting their entire run. Sometimes it works out that way; the two of them get along bizarrely well for people on the opposite ends of the size and nobility spectrum, and their conversation flows as easily as Gladiolus’ does with Ignis and Noctis. Better, even, because Prompto’s less likely to talk back. 

Prompto’s just fun and sweet and cool, even if he thinks he isn’t, and Gladiolus could listen to him laugh for days. 

It’s no wonder he fell for Prompto second, unable to resist that magnetic pull. He can’t remember exactly _when_ it happened, but he knows he practically pounced on Prompto during training, and Prompto was all too happy to kiss him back and grab his crotch. It was all uphill from there. They divert through a public park, and Prompto wants to stop in to the public washroom. 

It has three separate small rooms instead of one big area of stalls. Prompto pulls him into one of the vacancies, and then Gladiolus is shoving him up against the door. Gladiolus used to worry that he’d be too big for Prompto, that he’d be too rough—he’d break if he ever hurt his little ball of sunshine. But Prompto’s grown so much, and he’s so much stronger than he gets credit for. He can take it. He says he loves it. So Gladiolus goes all out, loving that he can just _be himself_ and Prompto will take him with open arms. 

He fucks Prompto quick and sloppy right there in the dingy public washroom. Prompto screams so loud it’s a wonder they don’t get arrested. They’re both flushed and panting afterwards, and Prompto jokes about not being able to walk straight. He really does have a slight limp for the rest of the run. Gladiolus can’t stop smirking. 

Gladiolus asks if he wants to catch a movie after training tomorrow, and Prompto lights up like a star.

Gladiolus is grateful for the foresight when Thursday rolls around; Iris has a new crush, the new recruits suck, and Noctis sucks him into a three-way debate with Ignis over studies that have nothing to do with him. Making out with Prompto in the theatre’s washroom makes it easier to come home to another of his father’s sad attempt at homemade dinner. 

Friday happens, and then suddenly it’s Saturday, and when he gets a text from Noctis, he’s over there in a heartbeat. 

He’s missed Noctis. He still complains about the little runt of course, because it’s his job to hound Noctis into shape. But he loves Noctis more than he’ll ever admit to anyone. He loves Noctis in so many different ways, and if he ever did lose his place at Noctis’ side, he knows that it would break him. 

Noctis answers the door and flops right onto him. Gladiolus has to snort and push his prince back inside. Apparently Ignis has gone on strike again, so Noctis has to do his own shopping, like the responsible independent adult he’s supposed to be. 

They go shopping together, Gladiolus holding the basket and putting back all the junk food Noctis tries to sneak by him. Gladiolus isn’t as strict as Ignis, but he’s stricter than Prompto, and Noctis winds up with a fair balance of moderately healthy food and things totally devoid of all nutrition. They catch up on the past week as they carry the bags home, even though they’ve had a few training sessions here and there. Gladiolus always tries to keep those professional, even if he can’t manage it with the other two. 

Noctis is the last one he crossed that line with, and he really tried not to at all. But Noctis found out Gladiolus was fucking everyone but him, and Gladiolus wouldn’t admit he sometimes pretended it was Noctis. Noctis was stubborn and pouted over it, and Gladiolus was frustrated with both of them, because he knew he _did_ want Noctis but _shouldn’t._

But that was useless, and he crumbled in no time at all, because they share too many little moments where it’s obvious they love each other. It can just be a small _look_ during training, Noctis leaning on him in the car, a quick touch after a hard day at the Citadel. As much as Gladiolus complains about Noctis’ work ethic, he sees how much pressure Noctis is under, and deep down, he’s _so_ proud of his prince. 

He spends the afternoon playing games with Noctis, not worrying about work or the Crownsguard or his family’s small dramas. He gets hyped up over a racing game and makes a bet he can’t win. 

He winds up on his knees before Noctis, taking Noctis into his mouth and proving he can be just as good with his tongue as the other two. He shows his appreciation for Noctis by hollowing out his cheeks, rewards Noctis for all the things he _does_ do right by humming around his cock. Noctis looks absolutely _beautiful_ when he comes. 

Noctis wants to be fucked afterwards, but he’s tired and boneless, so Gladiolus takes him less aggressively. Still deep. Noctis is every bit as strong as the others, maybe stronger even. He locks eyes with Gladiolus and says, _“Go for it,”_ and Gladiolus shivers from how intense it is. He picks up his pace. His toes curl from how good it feels. 

When the delicious torture of holding back is too much, he comes all over Noctis, marking his territory. In moments like this, he feels horribly territorial with his precious prince. Noctis is already limp and sated. Noctis reaches up to him, and Gladiolus sinks down into his open arms. Noctis sleepily mumbles something about fishing next week.

Gladiolus stays over. In bed at night, spooning his darling sleeping prince from behind, he gets a text from Ignis about brunch for four on Sunday.

He promises for both of them to be there, then falls asleep.


End file.
